


El Cadejo

by soupysoop



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Gen, mexican folklore kinda, written in like 20 mins but i had fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupysoop/pseuds/soupysoop
Summary: “You remind me of something Shiro,” he said, dangling his body over the counter top of a rec room table.“Can I tell you what it is?”





	El Cadejo

**Author's Note:**

> ok well i wrote this in less than a hr bc i suddenly remembered this myth and wanted 2 b edgy w/ it sooo the typos ugly sentence structure run on fantasy r all here yikes!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_asNhzXq72w

It wasn’t often that Shiro found himself alone with Lance. When he did, any conversation that managed to manifest usually dissolved into frustrated banter or good natured, fabricated disagreements.

He thinks Lance is a funny guy for it. An empathetic individual, fluid and adaptable in nature. He think’s Lance as an acquainted friend, and that their relationship is mirrored in their conversations. Simply banter between two close acquaintances

However, Lance so fluid in nature, is never one to sequester himself within the boundaries set by occasional routine.

“You remind me of something Shiro,” he says, dangling his body over the counter top of a rec room table. “Can I tell you what it is?”

Shiro grins, because of course. This could take his mind off of this Altean alphabet he was currently studying. Allura wasn’t monitoring, Keith wasn’t sulking, Coran not talking and Hunk or Pidge not loitering cynically. So he says yes.

Lance, in his usual facial dramatics, grinned and pointed up at Shiro’s hair from where he sat underneath and across from him.

“El cadejo!”

…

“What?”

“You remind me of the cadejo. It’s a folk lore tale thing from Mexico. Well, probably other places as well, but my dad is Mexican. You wanna know why you remind me of the myth, _el cadejo_?”

Huh?

“Sure.”

“Ok, alright - so when I was little my dad used to tell me all about Mexican folklore that used to scare me _shitless_. But, I mean, I loved listening to them. And my favorite was about _el cadejo_. So basically the cadejo is this myth about these two spirit dogs. The white cadejo, and the black cadejo. The white cadejo is supposed to be good - it's like a guardian for travelers basically. And the black cadejo is evil, my dad said it could even be the devil. But that’s really up to who you ask. The black cadejo is a spirit who wants to kill the traveler. Rip them to shreds or drive them mad. It's like a yin and yang situation, just, ya' know, cooler.”

Shiro looked down at Lance, inspecting the sly grin that he usually grinned in, feeling rather perplexed. How did that have to do with him? What?

“Your hair.”

“What?”

“You hair! El cadejo!” he laughs carelessly, “It reminds me of the legend.”

“May I ask you why exactly?”

He briefly pauses in his theatrics before leaning in over the table further, face radiating with humor Shiro for the life of him can not understand. With a lowered voice he continues.

“You’re both of the dogs, the white cadejo and the black cadejo. Both the guardian and the killer, right? You’re hair was the black cadejo before, before you lead voltron. And now with that white hair, you're also the white cadejo. The guardian.

Ok, so that made sense. Ok. Alright, that wasn’t to weird. Shiro let in a breath, preparing to change the topic to something less bizarre - only for Lance to continue.

“Oh, did I mention the white cadejo helps guide drunks and vagabonds safely back home? Isn’t that funny? I guess you're like the guardian of a bunch of vagabond, alcoholic paladins, leading us to figure our shit out!”

He laughs again, so carelessly. Shiro doesn't understand.

“But you're also this _black cadejo_ , a spirit of violence and rottenness. The black cadejo takes advantage of the lost vagabond and devours him. That's what my dad said. It’s like, that fucked up Champion side you have locked away in your psyche. The black cadejo, the black on your head. In the back of your _mind_

“And that's the thing, the white cadejo is right…” his finger lifts and lands on Shiro's scalp, on top of the patch of grayed locks. He hadn't noticed that he had leaned forward towards Lance.

“There, the front. Its guiding and protecting, while the black cadejo lurks behind it ready to strike. Always the drunkards demoralizing fear waiting to take his life! Scary right?

“My dad always said that if you were ever to talk to el cadejo, you would immediately go mad. Just go crazy, turn your back on the cadejo and bam! You're insane. The traveler is no longer being lead, but the one leading. Taking advantage of the white cadejo's benevolent nature. That's what he said, but I mean, myths change from person to person.

“So, I'm thinking, what does that mean for voltron? Us always speaking and talking to you, el cadejo, our leader? Leading us in all black? Huh? What does it mean? Do you know?” His face had fallen into a questioning stone mask. Eyes searching.

Shiro’s entire throat seized as a thin blanket of sweat began to further cover his frozen, aching body. Deeply unsettled, deeply confused, he doesn't know whether to be offended or not. Or exactly what Lance is asking.

“No?”

Lance’s stern look falls as effortlessly as the laugh that blows from his lips. He falls back away from Shiro.

“Neither do I! I’m really just rambling, it's just I think you really are cadejo like. The whole yin and yang thing. Right?” He looks at Shiro with suggestive eyes, as if expecting a nod of agreement. Shiro's throat pulsates with the need to say something, but it's closed so tight he can't manage to squeeze anything out. Lance jumps with a thought. 

“Wait, one more thing. Just one more thing. My dad always said to me that myths vary from person to person, I think I mentioned that already. And the one crucial fact about the legend of el cadejo is that, well,” a devilish grin stretches across Lance’s ever elastic face.

Up until then he considered his conversations with Lance careless banter between two acquaintances; both of them comfortable in a blooming relationship. Being alone with the blue paladin was a bland reverie. It was just mundane.

“The white could be the evil, and the black, the benevolent.”

**Author's Note:**

> o gawd some of the typos in this.............


End file.
